“Do you see the docks?”

“No,” I mumble, searching the shoreline.

“That’s because there aren’t any on this side. They must have their docks on the other side, the one closest to Mercer Island.”

I lower the binoculars sharply. “Then why did you ask me if I saw them from here?”

“I was testing you.”

“Testing me on what? Whether or not I know what a dock is?”

“You didn’t know where Tokyo was.”

I roll my eyes, lifting the binoculars again. “Let it go.”

“I’m looking for a baseline on your knowledge. I’ll know from there where to start with your education.”

“Dude, that was a joke. You’re not actually teaching me.”

“Why don’t you want to know things?” he asks, sounding disappointed.

“I do know things,” I snap.

“Why don’t you want to know more things? You should always be looking to learn. That’s why I read.”

“He is right, Athena.”

Crenshaw. He snuck up behind us with his crazy light tread, but I wonder if Trent didn’t hear him coming.

I lower the binoculars again but stow the sigh building in my throat. “He’s always right.”

Cren comes to stand beside me and take in the sights. The view is actually really pretty with the setting sun glistening off the water that’s rolling gently in and out against the sandy shore. It’d be beautiful, maybe even peaceful, if you only removed the slavers shouting from inside their walls.

“Are there inconsistencies in your education?”

“Glaring ones,” Trent confirms.

I smack his arm. “Not glaring ones. I’m not dumb.”

“A lack of knowledge does not indicate meager intelligence,” Crenshaw scolds. “I have no doubt of your capacity to absorb knowledge, child. You need only to be presented with it. If the boy has offered it to you freely, you’d be a fool to deny it.”

“You just told me I’m not dumb but then you called me a fool in the same breath. You see that, right?”

“I said you would be a fool to deny it.” Crenshaw looks over my head at Trent. “Perhaps English should be your first lesson.”

“I speak English!”

“Yet you do not always comprehend it.”

“Did you come up here to be mean to me?”

Cren looks perplexed. “Who is being mean to you?”

“She’s very sensitive,” Trent comments, jumping up to sit on the wall going around the edge of the roof.

He’s precise as a cat on Ritalin, but the move still makes me sweat.

“I’m sensitive because you guys are mean to me. I’m too fat, I’m too skinny, I’m rude, I’m a fool. Lay off me.”

“I did not seek you out to be cruel to you,” Crenshaw says, his tone softening. “I came to speak to you about something very important. Something regarding the Hornet. I wish—”

“Cren, you don’t have to worry about him,” I say quickly, knowing where this is going. I’m headed toward a lecture about the company I keep. “He’s not Hive anymore. He was, he was very deep in it, but he’s not now. He’s not a good guy, but he’s not a devil. I promise.”

He doesn’t answer me. When I turn to look up at him, he’s looking at me heavily.

“Perhaps your first lesson should not be English, but rather social etiquette.”

Uh oh.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I reply slowly. Cautiously.

“You have a very bad habit of interrupting. And assuming. You would do well to listen a little more and speak a little less.”

“Okay,” I mumble, looking away. I have been sufficiently shamed.

Again, he doesn’t respond. Seconds slip by and I begin to understand that we’re all waiting on me. Reluctantly, I look up at him.

He quirks a waiting eyebrow.

No, I think glumly, this is the shaming.

“I’m sorry, Crenshaw.”

“Thank you.”

“What would you like to discuss about the Hornet?”

“I wish to speak to him.” He takes a deep breath. I watch his hands clench on his staff, the knuckles going momentarily white. “I would ask after my daughter.”

He’s right, I assume too much. I did not see that coming. This conversation just got a whole lot of awkward and I’m suddenly wondering where Ryan is. Trent and I are not the right people for this.

“Um, okay. Yeah,” I stumble. “He’s gone now. He went to the northern Colony to take it back.”

“I know that.”

“Oh.”

“I should have spoken to him before he left, but I was hesitant. I waited too long. Now I worry.”

“About your daughter?”

“About time.” He pauses to take another slow breath. When he speaks again, he doesn’t sound exactly like Crazy Crenshaw. He’s that weird mix I get now and then when reality creeps in and you can see the hairline cracks in his world. “I’m an old man. I have seen so many things in my life. I’ve had the great honor to be loved by a beautiful creature of grace and brilliance. She gave her life to give me the greatest gift a man can receive from a woman: a child. But then I lost her too. She was taken from me or she went, it doesn’t matter. She’s gone. Now with the world as it is, with the fighting and the upheaval, who knows if I will ever find her again? I should not have waited. I should have found her ages ago. I should have spoken to the Hornet when I had the chance.”

“Cren, it’s not too late. Vin will still be there when this is done. Trust me, he’s too terrible to die. The devil doesn’t want him.”

He turns to face me. When I see his eyes, I take a step back. They’re hard. Fierce. I’ve only seen him like this once before and that time he pulled a weapon on me. I may not be well educated, but I am a fast learner. I’m not getting stabbed today.

“If you remember anything I’ve ever told you, child, make it this: there is never enough time. You may have years, you may have days. You may have a matter of seconds. No one knows, but no matter how much time you have, you’ll always wish it was more. Do not put off what needs doing.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it urgently. “Leave tomorrow for the cowards. Today you must be fearless.”

Chapter Twenty

My favorite part about the plan for taking the southern Colony is that I’m not in it. Not really. We have over three hundred people here ready and willing to fight to the death to overthrow these pompous, pampered zealots, and we don’t need more than twenty-five of them to lift a finger. The rest of us are here only to make them sweat.

Ryan, Trent, Bray, and Crenshaw are our explosives experts. They’ll work the trebuchet with a team of three other guys from the island who know how to use it. Give them a spot to hit and if it’s in the machine’s range, they’ll nail it. First try. The Vashons don’t play.

Elijah, Andy, and seventeen of their people are going underground. They’ll get inside from the tunnels, somewhere I hope I never have to go again. Each one of them will be packing a bag full of explosives compliments of Cren and his apprentices, and I’m sure every one of them will be sweating bullets the whole way there wondering if they’re jostling that Bag-O-Boom too much. One false move, just a little too much pressure on the wrong spot, and BAM! We’ll remember you fondly. I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful BBQ for your cannibal buddies to doggy bag home.

As the sun begins to set, we light torches up and down the shore. Trent says it’s sort of a filter. Even if we have more light behind the torches, it’ll be hard for the Colonists to see what we’re doing through the glare and smoke of the line of fire near the water. And what we’re doing is nothing. We’re wandering around, we shout to each other now and then. Sometimes a group will be sent running and yelling for no reason, going nowhere. It’s all meant to confuse the Colonists and keep their attention on us. They need to be frantic, on edge, always wondering what we’ll do next or how many of us there are. We don’t want them aware of the moles creeping into their home through their floor or the housewarming gift we’ve brought them that’s slowly making its way down the barricaded street toward the gate. That’ll be a fun surprise for them.